Reputations
by Kylara Kitsune
Summary: Sometimes, a reputation can be misleading. Demyx/Zexion


**AN: Something I wrote to keep myself occupied one day.**

"He's got a reputation for sleeping with anything that has a pulse. Male or female, it really doesn't matter. Why do I have to tutor him? Not that he'll be interested - he probably won't even turn up." Zexion fumed quietly to himself as he walked along the corridor to the library. He was on his way to meet Demyx, a first year student at Twilight University. As Professor Ansem's most senior postgraduate student, Zexion had been assigned the job of tutoring him. Ten weeks into term, even Zexion had heard about Demyx's reputation. Scanning the rows of tables, Zexion tried to find an empty space. At this time of day, that was easier said than done. He was taken aback to see somebody waving at him.

"Zexion, over here."

"Good afternoon, Demyx."

So, he'd managed to turn up on time. As Zexion slid into the seat, he glanced at the table. He'd managed to turn up on time, with a notepad and pen. Good start. The young student went up slightly in Zexion's estimation.

"It's the anatomy module I'm having the most trouble with."

Zexion suppressed a snort. "From what I've heard, anatomy shouldn't be an issue for you." He cast a critical eye over the man's appearance. Dark blond hair that was all over the place, blue-grey eyes, a T-shirt emblazoned with the name of a band that Zexion had never heard of, and ripped jeams. Sunglasses perched on top of his head, beaten-up trainers on his feet, and a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. An mp3 player lay abandoned on the table, the earphone wires tangled. the contrast between them couldn't have been much greater.

"So you've heard." Demyx shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. This is the first part I've had a problem with." He pushed the book across so that Zexion could see it, and indicated one of the sections. So, he was prepared to work. Zexion had to admit he was surprised.

They worked for an hour, Demyx asking sensible questions and Zexion doing his best to answer them.

"That's much clearer now. Thanks for agreeing to this."

"It's no problem. Same time next week?"

"If that's ok with you."

Zexion nodded, and Demyx scrawled the date and time at the bottom of his notes. His handwriting wasn't exactly tidy, unlike Zexion's meticulous script, but it was perfectly legible, even if he was using bright pink ink.

"I'll see you next week, then." Demyx dropped his notes into a backpack so covered with sewn-on patches that Zexion couldn't see what colour it had been originally, stuffed his mp3 player into his pocket and sauntered out. He hadn't been anything like Zexion's expectations - he'd worked hard, talked intelligently and passionately about the subject, and hadn't so much as flirted with anyone. They'd probably never be friends, but they could work together productively enough.

The next week, Zexion was no longer dreading the tutorial. He'd seen Demyx around the department once or twice, always in the company of several other first year students, and they'd greeted each other. Again, Demyx had arrived in the library first, and only looked up from the book he was reading when Zexion sat down.

"Reading novels?"

"It usually surprises people. Yes, I read novels. I also study. I don't just listen to music, drink and have sex, despite what some people say."

"Are you alright, Demyx?" Zexion was taken aback at the outburst - he'd always thought Demyx sounded (and acted) like a very laid back type of guy. Clearly, something was wrong.

"I'm just sick of the rumours, that's all."

"We don't have to do this today, if you'd prefer not to."

"No, I need to take my mind off things. I'll be fine."

"If you change your mind, just say."

Thirty minutes later, Demyx sighed and put his pen down. "It's no good, I can't concentrate. I can't... Those words just keep going round my head, over and over."

"Want to talk about it?" Zexion surprised himself by saying those words. It wasn't in his nature to be open about his emotions, and he usually felt awkward around those who were.

"I found out, this morning, that someone's posted a really unflattering description of me online. It ends with the words "Demyx is a slut." I wouldn't have minded so much if they'd had the balls to say it to my face." Demyx looked up, meeting Zexion's violet eyes. "I know I've got a reputation, ok? You don't have to say it. And I've never hidden the fact that I enjoy sex, or that I'm bi. But that doesn't mean I don't have feelings too."

Zexion tried to hide how shocked he was - Demyx seemed to be perfectly at ease talking about such private matters, whereas he would have blushed, mumbled, and eventually not said anything. He clearly didn't hide it very well, since Demyx started to laugh.

"Am I scandalising you, Zexy? Sorry about that. Listen, I think we should elave the work for now and go get a drink somewhere. Not in the union, too many people around."

Zexion opened his mouth to refuse, but something in the blond's eyes made him change his mind. "Ok. Let's go."

Zexy. Nobody had ever dared to shorten his name before. He'd discouraged nicknames ever since he was old enough to know what they were - his name was Zexion, and that's what he wanted to be called. But it had seemed so casual, so normal, coming from Demyx. Zexy. It wasn't so bad, after all.

"So, tell me about yourself, Zexion. I know you're Professor Ansem's favourite student, but that's about all."

"What do you want to know?" They'd just sat down at a table, having bought steaming, frothy cappuccinos at a nearby café.

"Oh, where you're from, how old you are, what you like doing, who your partner is..." Demyx winked, showing he wasn't serious about the last one. "Anything and everything."

"I'm twenty-three, research student. By the summer, I'll have completed my doctorate. I'm originally from Radiant Garden, but I moved to Twilight Town five years ago and stayed here."

They continued talking, finding out all sorts of things about each other. Neither noticed the time passing, not looking at the clock on the wall until they realised it was getting dark outside.

"I should get back to the lab. Professor Ansem will be wondering where I am."

"He'll have gone home by now, Zexy. Chill. There's no rush."

"You're not going out tonight?"

"Thought I'd give the clubs a miss for a few days, let things calm down. Hey, are you busy tomorrow morning? We could catch up on the work then."

"I'll be in the lab, just come and find me."

"Ok. I'll do that. See you tomorrow."

They left the café, each going their separate ways - Zexion to the lab, Demyx back to his room in the student halls of residence. It was true - he wasn't going clubbing that night. In fact, he was going to write the essay he'd been putting off for a week. Despite his friends urging him to go out, he simply didn't feel like it for the first time since arriving in Twilight Town.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next morning, Zexion found himself standing in front of his wardrobe, agonising over what to wear. Normally, he just pulled on a pair of trousers and a shirt, but today he wasn't sure. Eventually, he selected his only pair of jeans (dressing casually wasn'y something he did often), and a dark shirt, leaving the top button undone. He took more care with his hair, too, brushing it until the unusual blue colour gleamed.

A few minutes walk away, Demyx was doing exactly the same thing, styling his dark blond hair carefully, and even ironing his T-shirt. Hauling the ironing board out of the cupboard at the end of the corridor had been a noisy job, waking several of his neighbours.

"Trying to impress someone, Dem?" A bleary-eyed redhead, Axel, looked baffled at the sight of Demyx carrying the ironing board back to his room.

"Do you even know how to use that? You've never bothered before." From the same room, a short, younger-looking blond. Roxas.

Heroically, he ignored their comments, resisting the urge to insult them in return. As his bedroom door closed behind him, he realised that they were right in one way - he was trying to impress Zexion. He couldn't really explain why, either - the postgrad student wasn't his usual type. In fact, the quiet, aloof, studious Zexion was completely the opposite of the party animals he usually ended up in bed with.

Ended up in bed with. That made him pause. Zexion definitely wasn't the type for casual, no-strings sex. So why was he making so much of an effort? He didn't usually need to.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As it happened, they arrived at the same time. They stood outside the lab door, staring at each other in surprise.

"You're early."

"And you're wearing jeans. And trainers. It suits you."

Blushing, Zexion looked away. "Thanks."

It was an awkward morning. Both were painfully aware of the efforts they'd made with their appearance, and both knew that the other had noticed. Demyx felt uncertain, for the first time. He didn't know what to do, whether Zexion would accept any approaches he made, or whether he'd be rejected. By midday, the tension had become almost tangible, so thick it could be cut with a knife. It was only broken by a loud rumbling from Demyx's stomach.

"Ok, lunch time. Come on." Without pausing to think, in case he decided this was a Really Bad Idea, Demyx grabbed Zexion's hand and dragged him away from the lab.

Zexion didn't protest, nor did he pull his hand away. He allowed Demyx to lead him to The Underworld, a favourite café of students in Twilight Town. As they arrived, they both glanced down at their hands, still joined. Somewhere along the way, their fingers had laced together, Zexion's slim, elegant fingers and Demyx's tanned ones, with the black nail varnish and callused tips from his guitar strings. It felt natural already. Their eyes met, blue-grey and violet.

"Can I kiss you?" A hoarse whisper, the first time Demyx had ever asked permission. At Zexion's nod, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Zexion's, and realised he must have been doing it wrong before. He'd never experienced such excitement from a simple kiss. He'd always seen it as nothing more than a method of persuading someone into bed. This, however... This was the whole point of kissing, he now understood.

When they reluctantly parted in order to breathe, both were flushed, their eyes wide and darkened with lust. Within moments, they were kissing again, hands sliding into and clutching at each other's hair, bodies pressing together so they could feel each other's arousal. It would have taken a crowbar to separate them.

Professor Ansem strolled past while they were still occupied, smiling to himself. He'd hoped that young Demyx would make Zexion more confident, more sociable, and that Zexion would persuade Demyx to make the most of his intelligence. He hadn't foreseen this, and it wasn't quite what he'd had in mind, but he hoped it worked out for them. It would do them both good.


End file.
